What Could Have Been
by The Last Daydreamer
Summary: A child. A child. The very idea makes Percy and Annabeth happy, even if it hasn't happened yet and (what if it doesn't?) it's going to happen, okay, it's going to happen. Oneshot.


_A/N: some background—HoO didn't happen, Percy and Annabeth married, and they live in the mortal world. They're occasionally attacked, but survive through a combination of their powers/strength/intelligence/luck._

_I think I overdosed on run-on sentences. Sorry about that. Please don't favorite without reviewing. __I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians._

* * *

Annabeth isn't well.

She's throwing up at random times and she won't eat and she snaps at Percy over the littlest things that she knows don't matter. She's sick, maybe not just physically, but it feels like she's sick everywhere even if she's a perfectly fine person. It's messing with her head.

She's going to the doctor on Saturday and receives an It's okay, here, take this, and it's a pregnancy testing kit. She nearly dies of relief because why didn't she think of it before? Oh, wow, the very idea of a baby excites her and yeah, she'll pay the price for a baby.

So it turns up positive and a baby, she tells Percy, who looks at her blankly because _you never think ahead, Seaweed Brain,_ he never even considered a baby before. She groans in exasperation but holds her tongue, and the doctor tells her the baby's healthy and happy.

Annabeth wants Eleanor if it's a girl, for Eleanor Roosevelt, but Percy says no, too old-fashioned. He wants a Greek name and she reminds him that those are even older, and besides, he can barely pronounce most Greek names. People will be suspicious, too; it's bound to attract monsters.

So she says she wants a girl (but it's too early to tell) and she thinks Susan would also be nice, because of Susan Anthony. His expression is still blank and she snorts and says the suffragette and he asks what a suffragette is.

Okay, this is annoying, but she tries not to let it tick her off because that's just Percy and it's the pregnancy. She sticks with Susan, though he wants a boy. He can't make up his mind on a name, and she rolls her eyes and shows him an article on suffragettes.

* * *

Chiron Iris-messages them one day when he hears, and she comes home and nearly screams at the mist hanging in the air like a curtain. During her married years, she's maybe gotten a little too used to science, and monsters haven't attacked in a few months, so it's startling.

He says that Annabeth and Percy need to come to Camp Half-blood—it can't be that safe for the baby to be in the mortal world. After all, her stomach is already swollen and she knows it's nearly impossible to fight off a monster in this state.

Percy's open to the idea; he misses camp, and he wants to see his "extended family" react to his child. Barely any demigods survive to have children, so it would be a huge accomplishment for him.

Annabeth says no. It's her own baby, not the camp's, and she wants to raise it in the mortal world (maybe just to prove she can).

It's Annabeth with the baby, so Percy listens to her, even though they fight that night and he says she's being selfish. And yes, she is, but she doesn't care.

* * *

They drive to the doctor's office and she's tested, and the baby's a girl. She says they have to name her Susan now, unless he's got a better suggestion. He doesn't, but he scowls and is not pleased.

The doctor's smile is warm and Annabeth turns to leave, and suddenly a spike is in her back.

It's one of the stupid mistakes Percy has made. He's literally been blind and the doctor's smile stretches ever wider as he morphs into a manticore.

Percy isn't stupid enough to forget Riptide, though, and the manticore doesn't have much room to move in his office. So Percy wins this battle and good for him but _what if Annabeth's dying?_

She looks at him through blurred sight and collapses, and he kneels by her on the cold floor. He wants her to stay alive and somewhere in the middle of his words he promises to name the baby Susan if both of them stay alive, and he says he's been awful and careless and finally she opens her eyes.

They almost lose the baby, but don't worry, she tells him, it'll be okay. Every day, she still feels the baby kicking, and even though it hurts, every time he sees her nearly cry with joy. Her sweet little Susan, she says, because he knows Annabeth is stubborn and would hold him to his promises.

Then they contact Chiron because in trade, Percy says they're going to Camp Half-blood no matter what. Annabeth isn't happy with the idea, but she goes with him. It's sensible, and Annabeth sticks by sense.

* * *

She realizes how much she missed the place, the scent of the strawberry fields, the gentle ripples on the lake, the crackling of the fire as Hestia waves, there as always. Maybe she's missed everything even more than Percy. Seaweed Brain isn't known for his sentimentality.

Rachel is still there, and she tells Annabeth that she plans to be traveling in the mortal world soon because she feels disconnected. Chiron says it's okay; Rachel isn't as young anymore, so they'll be switching Oracles in a few years. Annabeth shudders as she remembers and feels glad her friend won't be the same mummy her predecessor was.

And the camp is completely safe, which Annabeth isn't used to. The campers are new to her, but they're nice. They admire her, a sort of hero-worship, and with all the stress she's facing, it's sometimes calming. Other times, it's annoying, but she makes the best of it.

Her stomach is still swelling, until she's struggling to get out of bed every day. Percy helps her around, showing her everything he can—it's fascinating to see the changes, although his eyes glaze over whenever she mentions anything like, "I wouldn't have designed it like that."

Annabeth is happy, and she thinks Susan is too.

* * *

It's time to go home, and Percy won't take a taxi. He gets an old rental car because this journey is going to be their own; it's almost time for Annabeth to give birth. They're both excited, so much she doesn't argue about the car.

The evening sinks to night as he drives to their New York apartment, making small talk. Eventually, everything falls silent, and neither of them mind.

"You know," he says abruptly, "I still don't like the name Susan."

He sees Annabeth's aghast expression and turns toward her as she asks if he's going back on his promise. He almost pities her—apparently her hormones must be making her very stressful. It's not as if he's a medical expert, and he doesn't really want to be.

"No, but—"

He forgets there's a turn in the road here.

Glass is flying everywhere and the air bag doesn't deploy because the car is so old and must have some sort of mechanical issue, only he doesn't have enough time to think this as he slams forward into the steering wheels. He's trying to hold on and Annabeth is crying out. _Nonono_, he has to help her, he can't let this happen—

Somewhere, sometime, all the pain and confusion causes everything to swirl into black.

* * *

She wakes up in the hospital, and the sheets are too thin and the bed's too uncomfortable. The sunlight coming through the window is in her eyes, causing her to squint as she sits up, and the nurse on duty calls out that she's awake.

You're fine, the nurse assures her as they wait for the doctor. Annabeth had some injuries in the crash, but she's perfectly fine now and she really shouldn't worry. Percy suffered some brain damage, but he's also fine now, and everything will be okay.

She thinks that someone's name is missing in the middle of that, and she feels guilty when she remembers. How could she forget her own daughter? Some mother she is.

"What about Susan?"

The nurse hesitates. "Well, she's fine." There's something off about it, and the nurse points up at the ceiling. Annabeth can see from her perspective even though the only thing she knows is up there is Mount Olympus, and that's not where Susan is.

No, Susan's in the ground.

* * *

_Susan Jackson_

_Died July 19th_

_What could have been._

Their lives are full of what could have beens, Percy thinks as he kneels by the gravestone. He could have died in the Second Titan War. He could have driven more carefully—it wasn't just ADHD that caused lack of focus. He could have. . .he. . .

No, _she_ could have. He doesn't know which she he's thinking about.

"Percy."

He looks at the single gravestone, and it feels like an infinite what could have been. For a moment, he sees the rest of the gravestones, sees the infinities all here, stretching out row after row after row into one big infinity. Then he tries to multiply that by the hundreds, thousands, millions of cemeteries around the world, and his head throbs at the very thought.

"Percy." He turns and sees Annabeth's eyes are red. "Percy, come home."

He comes home, except it's not home anymore.

* * *

_It's not all you_, she thinks bitterly as she watches her husband. Demigods aren't known for their luck, and surviving this long isn't that lucky if this is what she gets in return.

And the stress still isn't going away.

Annabeth finds herself driving in a straight line, and she considers continuing the line at the bend in the road.

No. At the last minute, she swerves.

She doesn't want to go to the Underworld and know her baby might be there, too.

* * *

Somewhere else, a camp grieves and a gravestone shines in the sunlight for them.


End file.
